Page 124 of Drop Three

I nod. “The best.”

“How are the nightmares?” Dr. Banks asks as she flattens the sides of her ironed-to-perfection blazer.

“Few and far between.”

“You’ve accomplished a lot this past year. I’m sure talking to your sister has helped you breathe much easier, wouldn’t you say?”

I nod, because it has.

I feel closer to Penelope, closer than we’ve ever been. Her being here this past weekend was exactly what we needed to mend our broken relationship.

It feels good to have family in my life again. Unfortunately, she left yesterday, but we made the most of our time together.

I just wish she lived closer.

“I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I’m starting to believe I can be happy. I don’t know what that looks like yet, but I’m excited to find out.”

I watch as Dr. Banks scribbles something on her sacred brown notepad and adjusts her glasses across her nose.

“Have you figured out a coping mechanism for your nightmares? Walk me through what one looks like and how you manage to settle yourself.”

I think about her question for a moment. Explaining what a nightmare looks like isn’t difficult; I can recite that like it’s nothing. However, the act of steadying myself is difficult to put into words.

“Most of the time, I’m in a deep sleep when it happens. I’ve noticed it’s the nights I’m exhausted and my body is spent. It feels as if my mind hibernates, and I can’t shut off my thoughts while I’m sleeping. I can feel my brain working overtime to make up for what it thinks it’s missing. And then the nightmare hits me. My body breaks out in a convulsive sweat, enough that I can feel the quivering bone deep. The topic of the nightmares, however, is different every time. I wish that was something I could control.”

Dr. Banks hums, gathering her thoughts before responding, “And how do you escape them?”

I let out a dry chuckle. It’s not funny, but it’s also not that simple. I wish I could escape them at the drop of a hat, but I can’t.

I recognize that when my stress is less, the nightmares occur less.When I’m on good terms with Navy, the nightmares are practically nonexistent.

Not to mention how I’m slowly making amends with the people I care about and myself.

This may be the first time I see myself as a priority and don’t feel hauntingly ill over it.

“I’m not sure…it’s not that simple.”

“Okay, I understand that. Can you at least tell me about your last one? How did you settle yourself from it?”

Navy.

Navy was there; it was the first time my body succumbed to sleep without a fight. I woke up feeling more rested than I had in years after a nightmare.

I may have been sweating and sore from thrashing, but my mind was calm.

“Someone I care about very much was there. Not in the bed with me. I fell asleep on the couch, and she found me in the middle of it,” I tell Dr. Banks.

God, I remember the feel of her soft hands soothing me gently and the unfamiliar song she sang.

Bad dreams, bad dreams, go away. Good dreams, good dreams, here to stay.

Her words and touch brought me astronomical comfort. That’s never happened before. I hate being snuck up on; it’s something I’m terrified will bite me in the ass one day. I never want to plant fear in the people I love, but it’s instinctual, something I’m not proud of, and something I’ve never known how to fix.

It has lessened since my release from prison, but the impulsive reaction still manifests. I’m terrified of hurting someone and not being conscious to realize it.

“She sounds like a very special someone. Someone who holds a lot of power over your care.”

I send Dr. Banks a look of confusion. Not to be a prideful man or anything, but…

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